Conflicting Memories and other Short Stories
by blackbeltchic
Summary: Clashing memories plague Buffy's thoughts. COMPLETE please review!- Second Story up!
1. Conflicting Memories

Title: Conflicting Memories  
  
Author: boredom, what else?  
  
Disclaimer: Sadly, nothing belongs to me. If they did, then both shows would be planning on a million more seasons, but alas, even the best of things must eventually come to an end. That doesn't mean I have to take it lying down. I'm going to kick and scream till the very end!  
  
Summery: Clashing memories plague Buffy's thoughts.  
  
Author's notes: Not much to go on, I know. Sorry. Can't even really tell you the season...well, yeah I can. Season Six, right after she comes back, pretty much.  
  
For those of you who are reading my other stories as well, there is a slight chance there will be updates tomorrow on these stories" The Dark Years, and One of a Kind. The other two...three...two that I'm working on, Divine Interference and Stolen Innocence, I just have to get my butt into gear and make an update possible!  
  
Please review!!!  
  
And that's where I shall leave you...  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
Thoughts and images slowly flitted through her mind, as she sat there in the dark.  
  
"I feel weird."  
  
"I know. I do, too. I mean, I only came to see you so I could tell you face-to-face not to see me - face-to-face anymore, - and I know there is a fly in the logic ointment here somewhere, but.. The next thing I knew we're being attacked by this mutant ninja demon thing, and then we're on the floor on top of each other, and it's just really confusing being around you."  
  
Angel grabbing her, and almost getting it on, right there in the sewer tunnel. The heat coming from his dead lips, and the aching inside her, for him to just take her and ravage her then and there. She wanted to feel his skin on hers, and him inside her once more.  
  
She was walking in a park overlooking the beach. She felt something and turned around, to see Angel stepping through a shadowed arch in a hedge.  
  
And then he was rushing out at her, upon that promenade, in the middle of the day. He was kissing her, and she was pressed against him, and she could feel him against her. And she loved every minute of feeling, being so close to him.  
  
"You're still the Slayer. And I'm not sure what I am now. I don't know what my purpose is. I can't just wedge myself into your life back in Sunnydale. It wouldn't be good for either of us. Not to mention the fact that you just started college. And what about slaying. I mean, if you had me to worry about, you might not be as focused."  
  
They sat at his table, in his apartment underground, safe from the once killing rays of the sun that now no longer harmed him. They were both playing the careful card, being the responsible one, but all she really wanted to do was jump him right there, get him inside her, where everything else seemed less important.  
  
"I'm not saying I don't want you. You know how much.. I'm just saying it's worth the wait to be sure this is right. I need to be sure you won't get hurt again."  
  
"You know it's a good thing I didn't fantasize about you turning human only about 10 zillion times, because today would have been a real let down. - So how does the mature plan go? You call me? I call you? What?"  
  
"We stay in touch - just not..."  
  
"Literally. - Funny. Okay, I'd better..."  
  
"Right. Remove the temptation."  
  
"So, we'll - talk soon."  
  
And then someone touched the other. She wasn't totally clear on this part; who's fault it was. Maybe it was her doing, and maybe it was his. But all of a sudden, someone had jumped the other, and they couldn't be close enough. They banged into the wall, and he cleared off everything from the table in a frenzy, bending her over it, and then he picked her up and carried her off to his bedroom, kissing the whole time, for blissful hours of passionate, burning sex. How could she have settled for anything less, was beyond her thinking. How she could have settled for anyone else, her heart would have broke just thinking about it, before. But things were infinitely different now.  
  
"You hurt my boyfriend."  
  
"A great darkness is coming."  
  
"You got that right."  
  
She remembered him disappearing for ages. It may have been only hours, but it had seemed like forever...physically being away from him had hurt so much.  
  
"So what? You just took a whole 24 hours to weigh the ups and downs of being a regular Joe and decided it was more fun being a superhero?"  
  
"You know that's not it. How can we be together if the cost is your life, or the lives of others? I know. I couldn't tell you. I wasn't sure - if I could do it if I woke up with you one more morning."  
  
And then his announcement when he had finally come back, when all she had wanted to do was have him hold her, safe and warm in his arms. Clinging to him, pleading with him to undo his decision. To stay with her, forever.  
  
"The Oracles are giving us back the day, turning back time, so I can kill Mohra before his blood makes me mortal."  
  
"When?"  
  
"Another minute."  
  
"A minute? No. No, it's not enough time!"  
  
"We don't have a choice. It's done."  
  
"How am I supposed to go on with my life knowing what we had? What we could have had?"  
  
"You won't. No one will know but me."  
  
"Everything we did."  
  
"It never happened."  
  
"It did. It did. I know it did! I felt your heart beat."  
  
"Buffy..."  
  
"No! Oh God. It's not enough time."  
  
"Shh, please. Please. Please, please."  
  
"No. I'll never forget. I'll never forget. I'll never forget. I'll never forget."  
  
And then the day had restarted. She went to visit her dad, and once Dawn was introduced into her family, she had dragged her along as well. Three sets of memories for that one day. Which was real?  
  
They all were, it seemed. The Powers must have figured it no longer mattered if she knew what had really gone on, she was dead. She had been in heaven, and happy. But now....they hadn't separated her memories when she had come back. Maybe they hadn't seen it coming. She knew she certainly hadn't. They hadn't merged them either, to the memory she was supposed to possess, and instead left her with three different memories.  
  
A single tear fell down her cheek, running languidly down her pale skin, but she didn't feel the pain, or the wetness, or the cold. She was dead inside. Dead in side, wishing to feel the pain, or the passion. Or anything at all.  
  
She just wanted to feel.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
End....what do you think? 


	2. Withdrawal

Withdrawal  
  
Posted: April 30th  
  
Author's notes: I've decided to stick with this draft of this story. I sorta like it, and before, when on paper, it had NO quotes. Hope you like. Might get reader Responses up later. Technically grounded from computer...  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
She woke up and didn't know where she was. Once she had that figured out, she had another question for herself...why?  
  
"When ... When did the building fall down?"  
  
"I don't know. Must have been sometime between the first time and the, uh... "  
  
"Oh. Oh my god."  
  
Why was she in bed, obviously naked, with a guy she hated? Why would she desecrate her body like this? And why did she keep coming back to him?  
  
"I just don't see why you have to run off so quick. Thought we could-"  
  
"Not gonna happen. Last night was the end of this freak show."  
  
It wasn't like she owed him anything. At least, she didn't feel she did. So why?  
  
It wasn't his dashing good looks; she had been with prettier guys, or his sunny disposition. He was the only one who didn't feel false to her. Maybe that was why.  
  
Or maybe it was how he made her feel. He had her feel loved, like she could be touched, like she still meant something. He didn't need anything from her. What he got from her, he could always get somewhere else, from somebody else. And being with him like this was the closest she could get to her Gift. That blissful feeling where nothing matters, and she had no responsibilities.  
  
She hoped for death.  
  
She rolled over, away from him, and he shifted over, putting an arm around her waist. It was like sleeping with death, like being in death's arms.  
  
She knew this had to stop. This was slowly killing what little will to live that she still possessed. And she almost cared. All her friends loved her, and they had thought they were doing the right thing, pulling her out of heaven, in to this hell. But this placed numbed her, in mind, body and spirit. Only the feeling she got in his arms helped her go on.  
  
"No, it's not that easy. We have something, Buffy. It's not pretty, but it's real, and there's nothing either one of us can do about it."  
  
And she knew she didn't love him. She knew she was just using him. She loved the feeling he brought to her, but he was just a puppet. And she'd never love him, because he couldn't. Love wasn't apart of her vocabulary any more. Hunt, kill. That was her world. The world that she had been dragged back into after her release. After she had received her ultimate gift.  
  
She still felt for her friends, but could it really be called love? Her feelings were strange, confusing, mixed emotions she couldn't explain to save her life, or theirs. But she still felt something.  
  
And Dawn. She felt closer to her sister than ever before, and yet she was so distanced from the girl. She felt the closest thing to love for her sister, but she knew that she had once truly loved the girl, no matter how annoying she had been, and she hated herself that she couldn't feel the same now.  
  
Self-Loath. Great job Summers.  
  
She knew she had to stop this. If hr friends found out, they would leave her, and then where'd she be? And yet she had no clue how she could make herself feel as he did. But she knew it was wrong. He was a like a drug to he. And it was slowly killing her.  
  
"It's over."  
  
"I've memorized this tune, luv. Think I have the sheet music. Doesn't change what you want."  
  
"I know that. I do want you. Being with you ... makes things ... simpler. For a little while."  
  
"I don't call five hours straight a little while."  
  
"I'm using you. I can't love you. I'm just ... being weak, and selfish..."  
  
"Really not complaining here."  
  
"...and it's killing me. I have to be strong about this. I'm sorry ... William."  
  
She hadn't loved him, but the withdrawal was a bitch. She needed her fix, but knew it was over, and there was no going back.  
  
She had wanted to feel, but not like this. 


End file.
